This Is Me
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: 5 years have passed since Camp Rock. Mitchie and Shane split 3 years ago, turning Mitchie into a struggling work-aholic and Shane to a quick slide through Hollywood stardom to rehab. Connect 3 drags him to Camp to try and heal, Mitchie comes to camp to try and find her lost love of music again. Can they reconcile before the summer is over?


Mitchie sighed and breathed in the fresh, sunny air. It smelled like promise. And talent. And music.

It was her 5th year at Camp Rock, her 3rd as a counsellor. It was the absolute highlight of her year, something she looked forwards to in between shifts at the diner, late-night recording sessions, concerts, flights, and office hours. She almost hadn't come this year after the stress of work and travel had really cut into her, but then she realized that Camp Rock was where she belonged. It was her time to just relax and enjoy the talent of the up-and-coming artists that bussed in from all over the U.S.

Speaking of busses, the first bright teal Camp Rock bus had just turned the bend towards the camp, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it. Mitchie whooped and waved, jumping up and down. The bus honked in reply. Counsellors began streaming out of the buildings waving and laughing. Mitchie hugged her clipboard and let her biggest and brightest grin onto her face. It was going to be a magical few weeks, hopefully just the thing she needed to get herself back on her feet.

* * *

Shane Gray squinted out of the limousine window for a fraction of a second before letting his eyes slide closed again. The sun was killing his head. Next to him, his brother Nate was blathering on about this and that and whoever, not helping the situation.

"...As I was saying, I think the whole thing is going to be good for you after the last few years. You've been dodging it since that last time, but now we've got you where you belong, right? Shane?"

He opened his eyes again to see both his brothers looking at him. They wore matching piteous expressions. Shane shut his eyes. He was sick of seeing that expression on everyone's face. The silence stretched on until the car pulled to a halt.

"Shall I pull around to your bungalow?" Their driver asked.

"Yeah, go ahead. Let's leave the staring for later." Nate said. The car sidled down the road and turned. Shane didn't open his eyes, but he knew what the view afforded. The lake, the trees, the wood cabins. Every single place held memories clamoring to come to the front of his consciousness, memories that had only partially been obscured in the drug and alcohol-washed slide through stardom that had been his grand leap into (and grand flop out of) solo musical fame.

"All right, we're here." Nate said.

"Dude. I totally need to remember to build a birdhouse." Jason said, unbuckling and bounding out of the car.

"Come on." Nate said, climbing out and offering his hand to his brother. Shane cracked an eye, then hauled himself out of the limo, dragging his grey guitar case behind him. His old guitar had gone to the great Guitar Center in the sky after he smashed it onstage one drunken concert night that ended up kicking off the great bender that had lasted the last 3 years.

That was the night that he and Mitchie... His head hurt thinking about it.

"Yo, let's book the rehearsal room later tonight. Get some practice in for the Final Jam." Nate called from the car.

"Sure, whatever you want." Shane said in a monotone before the screen door banged shut. Nate winced at the sound.

"Did you tell him yet?" Jason asked.

"No. I called Caitlyn and she said she wasn't coming this year. Crisis averted." Nate replied. "Mum's the word."

"Like, I know mum's a word. But what does that mean?"

Nate rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag. If he could keep himself from killing Jason and keep Shane from killing himself, this summer could actually be the healing that Connect 3 desperately needed.

* * *

Mitchie hardly paid the limousine any mind as it slid through the crowds of campers. She was so busy moving instruments and kids around, she hardly had time to stop smiling, let alone think about the car's significance. Of course there was going to be a big music group for the Final Jam, there always was. Last year Stevie Nicks had been out to lead a singalong of old Fleetwood Mac songs, before that The Goo Goo Dolls inspired students to write some really soul-searching lyrics, and the year before that Carly Rae Jepsen and Nate Gray led musical theater workshops that the kids absolutely adored.

Thinking about Nate brought up a forgotten pang of feelings in her stomach. She hadn't seen any of the members of Connect 3 in 3 years, except in the media. She knew all about Shane's rise to solo fame, subsequently followed by substance abuse, assault, rehab, and then total reclusion from the Hollywood music world. Nate and Jason enjoyed less lime-lighted, yet more successful solo careers. Nate was a regular on and off broadway, which Jason toured as part of a country band that had become a rocky-tonk and wedding reception staple.

For a second, Mitchie thought she saw a familiar face at the window of the VIP cabin. She shook herself. Connect 3 wouldn't be the VIP guest, not after the band's history with Camp Rock. Her mind was playing tricks on her.

"Excuse me, where is Cabin F?" A voice at her elbow said. A ten-year-old toting a french horn case bigger than her body was staring up at her shyly.

"It's across the pavilion, let me take you!"


End file.
